


lost our bloom in the summer breeze

by constantblur



Series: they're lesbians, harold [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: F/F, OR IS IT, Unrequited Love, just high school girls angsting in the summer sun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 01:06:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11544246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constantblur/pseuds/constantblur
Summary: If Sara opened up her chest and said,I made this for you, would it mean anything at all, or would Mila just look away?





	lost our bloom in the summer breeze

**Author's Note:**

> me: i really need to write something today  
> brain: victuri  
> heart: lesbians

The courtyard is empty save for two girls, one in shorts and a hat and the other tucking her skirt around her legs as she sits, pulling the lollipop from her mouth. There’s a few abandoned basketballs too, and pink chalk written on the concrete that reads: _Gabby + Scott, Forever and Ever_. There’s no heart, and Sara almost laughs because shouldn’t there be a heart? She pulls the cigarette from between her lips and leans forward, drawing it in herself with ashes. Mila snickers beside her, lips curling up in a way that makes Sara’s nerves spark and dance.

“Aren’t you a romantic,” Mila quips, plucking the cigarette from Sara and bringing it to her mouth. Her lips are ruby red, sticky and shiny from the lollipop. Sara drags her eyes away. She looks at Mila’s knees instead, peeking out from beneath her white skirt.

“Just doing what I can to help young love thrive,” Sara murmurs lightly.

“Does it matter that it was drawn with cigarette ash?” Mila laughs, smoke carrying away on the sound. “Kinda seems like bad luck, doesn’t it?”

It would just figure, Sara thinks ruefully, that she tries to bless a relationship and winds up cursing it instead. “It needed a heart. Everyone knows you’re supposed to draw a heart.” Probably not with nicotine and formaldehyde, but it’s all Sara had on hand. “I always drew a heart.” And in trying to defend herself, she’s gone too far. Sara feels her face burn; if Mila notices, hopefully she’ll just think it’s from the sun.

“Oh, Sara,” Mila says, and it’s a cruel mix of fond and mocking, “you really are a romantic.” She puts out the cigarette right on the _+_ in the middle of the heart. “It’s cute.”

Her tone says: _It’s not cute at all. It’s sad_.

“It was years ago,” Sara says. Not true. One year, if she’s being generous. And then she’d realized how Mila would take it if she ever saw them, so she’d stopped. Now she doodles birds and butterflies in the margins of her notebooks, and hands that reach out for unseen things. “I just did it when I was being silly and stupid over a crush. I grew out of it. I haven’t even had a crush in a long time.” That’s true. It stopped being just a crush a long time ago.

Mila hums with amusement. “Well, a crush is called a crush for a reason. But you’re not the type to grow out of it. You’re the type to want to stargaze and eat breakfast in bed and kiss under mistletoe. The dreamer type.” Mila glances at Sara with a crooked grin. “ _Such_ a dreamer. Sometimes I think you’d jump off a building believing you were gonna fly.”

 _I would if I could believe for one second that you’d catch me_ , Sara thinks. She says, “Well at least I don’t draw hearts anymore,” and matches Mila’s grin.

There’s a chopping sound above. Wings. The blades of a passing helicopter. It almost makes Sara wince as she frowns up at the sky. It makes her think of Mila flying away. She could. She will. Someday. Any second.

“It’s just chalk,” Mila says, and Sara looks back down at the pink inside the ashes. “Pretty, but it’ll be washed away.” She bumps Sara’s shoulder with her own, smiling. “You don’t have to worry. You can’t cause any lasting damage to something that wasn’t going to last anyway.”

But Sara is selfish and wishes she could. She thinks she might be willing to do anything, if it means Mila will remember her after she takes to the sky and doesn’t look back.

“But it does look better with a heart,” Mila says. “You made it look complete.”

If Sara opened up her chest and said, _I made this for you_ , would it mean anything at all, or would Mila just look away?

“Let’s hope it doesn’t give them cancer,” Sara says, dry as the concrete they’re sitting on, and Mila leans back on her hands howling her laughter at the sun.

Mila’s heart is a highway, and Sara is just a child playing in traffic.


End file.
